Animorphs Sequel - Title Pending
by Sanchay
Summary: We just miraculously survived ramming a giant spaceship, and you're talking about a birthday party! Setting is immediately after book 54 from Santorelli's point of view. The plot is still up in the air, but I'm open to suggestions and would like much violence if I can get it.


**~1~**

We survived. I can't tell you how; all I really remember of the entire ordeal is searing heat and blue-white light. When it was all over, the Blade Ship's hull had a hole almost a hundred meters in diameter through it. I grinned as I took a sidelong glance at our pilot. Menderash was simply the best there was when it came to flying. We immediately transitioned to Z-space and sped off, with no idea of where we were going, if only to mask the direction of our departure. While we didn't do any significant damage, we definitely pissed them off, the voice of the creature calling itself The One shrieking in our heads as we fled.

"That's the fun thing about navigating through uncharted space," my crewmate Marco left his post at the gunner's seat to walk over to me, slapping my shoulder. "For better or worse, we could still end up dead."

I grimaced at him sarcastically. We weren't best friends, but we both enjoyed smacking bullshit around time and again. Unlike him, though, I was trained to maintain a professional disposition. When I wanted to.

"Now that _that_ ordeal is out of the way, I've been meaning to ask you, what should we do for Jake's birthday?"

He caught me off guard, as we were still technically at battle stations, and mentioning a celebration in the middle of combat is a little non-sequitur.

Okay, maybe _really_ non-sequitur.

Who is Jake Berenson, other than being world-renowned as the savior of the planet? He, Marco, and Tobias are half of the original team that made it possible for Earth to still be free. I look up to him; his field training in those famous three years far outweighed mine, even though I had actual military training in the Army for a good two years longer, at least. He'd seen things I could only imagine in a nightmare, and it had scarred him deeper than I could conceive. I am twenty-four years old; he's only now turning twenty. Yet he is my hero, someone I am proud to serve under; for my planet, for the human race, and all races willing to be our friends and allies. I'm sure he believes a lot of what I do. I'm almost positive everyone on this ship does in his or her own way. That's why Marco's question unsurprisingly left my mind blank.

"I… I don't know. I feel like anything I think of wouldn't be right."

Marco laughed and nodded in agreement. "There's only so much you can do on a ship. I was thinking of stopping on a fun planet to just spend a day, maybe pick up some new morphs, you can mix some drinks, that sort of thing."

I rolled this thought in my mouth a bit before answering. "That actually doesn't sound too bad. Maybe we can talk to Menderash about it, if he's not in Bitch Mode."

A voice behind me pulled my heart into my throat. It was all I could do to resist jumping twenty feet in the air.

"Sergeant Santorelli. Although I am quite used to the limited range of sight humans possess by now, I would have expected you to be aware of my presence before making that statement." The formerly-Andalite _nothlit_ officer glared harshly at me, and then at Marco, who was just as likely, if not more, to say a smart-ass comment, even _with_ remembering he was in the room. But man. His facial expressions were getting better every day.

I flushed and muttered an apology. There went _that_ opportunity, at least for the time being.

As he began to walk off, Marco sidled back up to me, hands in his pockets, smirking like an idiot. "Still wanna ask him about—"

"Also, Marco, I never said you could leave your post. Please return immediately."

"'Kay." He flinched mockingly and stiffly rotated on his heel, biting down a giant grin.

The pilot was in his face in a flash. "That's 'Yes, sir,' cadet. Don't think that your lack of official training will let you off on formalities."

Marco huffed a "Yes, sir", rolled his eyes, and trudged back to his seat.

"To answer your question, I'll try tomorrow." I waved quickly and headed back to the compartment we had turned into a sort of "lounge". Jake wasn't around; he was probably in the direction Menderash was headed, but Tobias and Jeanne, our last crew member and the only female on the ship, were there… playing charades?

"What."

"Oh," Tobias was kneeling as if he was at a bodybuilder show or something. Which was hilarious in its own account, as he was insanely thin and knobbly in human form. "I'm offering a base model for her sketches."

Jeanne nodded, peeking over a small sketchbook. "He is drawing a bow, about to take a shot! So elegant it is. _Magnifique!_" She giggled and turned the book around so I could see. She most likely only needed the pose itself for reference, as the subject in the picture was far more muscular. My untrained eye saw no flaws.

She was a bit shaken up after our close encounter, so I suggested hanging in here to relax a little. I heard a slight ruffling of feathers, and where the young man used to be, a red tail hawk stood in his place. This was Tobias's true form. Before I even knew aliens existed, he had become a _nothlit_, or person trapped forever in a morph. Through some fucked-up space-time shenanigans, he had regained his ability to morph from hawk into his old human body. Now, human for him is just as much of a morph as any of my other forms are for me. Meaning there's a two hour time limit before you're stuck. He didn't get another chance at this.

I flopped down on the couch on the other end of Jeanne. "Marco wants to find someplace to go for Jake's birthday all of a sudden. What do you guys think?"

Tobias remained silent. He and Jake weren't on the best of terms, even though he would act on any order he was given without question. The love of his life was sacrificed to win the war back on Earth. He had no need to be anyone's friend, really. The only reason he was even on this mission was to save the only other person he felt mattered to him: an Andalite he had formed a bond with that was closer than even a friend could achieve. He didn't hate Jake. He just never could truly forgive him. Finally, he looked away and muttered, {Do what you want.}

Jeanne, on the other hand, animatedly began describing things that could go down to make this an unforgettable party. Mostly décor and silly activities. I didn't pay too much attention, as I suddenly felt very tired; probably the adrenaline rush finally subsiding and draining the last of my strength. Halfway through Jeanne's explanation of what the cake should look like, I excused myself and headed back to my room, unceremoniously crashing face-down on my bed.

I don't know how long I was out, but I still felt like shit when I heard a knock on the door, and Marco stepped in. "All hands call, twenty minutes. We're gonna talk strategy."

I grunted softly and set my alarm to wake me up in ten.


End file.
